


Heart where Fire Lies

by babygotbooks, Ozma (babygotbooks)



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Actual conversations, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blushing, F/M, First Dates, Forgiveness, Friendship, Life-Changing Field Trips, Nova Scotia, romantic feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23928367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babygotbooks/pseuds/babygotbooks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/babygotbooks/pseuds/Ozma
Summary: Anne apologizes to Gilbert the first Saturday on the train on the way back to Avonlea and asks him to go with her to Nova Scotia. Gilbert reflects on his feelings for Anne and compares a "date" with her to the one he had with Miss Rose.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 23
Kudos: 152





	1. Dreams, Origins

When the train shuddered and slowly began to roll forward, picking up steam, a single tear rolled down Anne’s cheek, sparkling against her pale skin. So pale, Gilbert could count each freckle.

“Anne?”

“I’m contrite, Gilbert,” she said, her voice very small. “I was horrible to you this morning.” She wiped the tear away but Gilbert could see her struggling to keep back more. He felt his jaw tighten.

“You needn’t have been embarrassed about Marilla in front of me.”

“She’s treating me like a child! When I turned sixteen, I thought I’d be more independent. I just want – I just want to make decisions for _myself_.” She slumped against the seat. “I can’t even know who I am without asking permission!” She started to cry. “I’m sorry for this morning, Gilbert, really. It’s so kind of you to let me come along on your Saturday. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You never are,” he assured her, putting aside his own hurt feelings. “I take it you didn’t get the answers you were looking for today.”

“No.” Her sobs grew steadier.

“Anne, I – “ he didn’t know what to say. He thought back to when his father died and she’d tried to comfort him and failed. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

At length, she did. Her tears dried and she seemed to shrink within herself as she told him about the orphanage. When she was done, she took a moment to relax her breathing and sat up straight. “I’m going back. I’m not giving up.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t think giving up is in your nature.”

She glared at him, but it only made him laugh. She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Will you come with me?” she said, suddenly, seeming to surprise herself as much as him. “I’ll need a friend for emotional support.”

“Of course.” He agreed, ignoring the dull stab of disappointment in the way she said ‘friend’.

* * *

On Monday at school, Gilbert found a trio of tarts wrapped with a thin green ribbon and a note ( _Further apologies. Here’s to our adventure! With love, Anne_ ) in his lunch. She must have slipped it in without him seeing. His breath hitched at the postscript. _With_ _love_. He folded the note carefully and put it in the pocket of his vest.

The week dragged by, but it was filled with secret glances between them, especially during after school meetings for the paper, while the Getting to Know you section was looked over for revision and when Ms. Stacey quietly pulled Anne aside to ask if the weekend was successful. Anne glanced at him over their teacher’s shoulder, her eyes shining.

*

On Saturday morning he met Anne and Matthew at the station. They both seemed very serious, and as the train pulled away, Anne explained that things with Marilla were still unsettled.

“I don’t understand… if she loves me, why is she trying to restrain me?”

“She’s afraid of losing you,” Gilbert answered without thinking.

Anne turned her gaze from the window to glare at him sharply. “Then why doesn’t she say that?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I can consult my own mother,” he snapped.

“Gil – “

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Can we never not argue?”

“I’m sorry, too.” She was quiet for a long time. “At least we argue about important things,” she said finally.

“What?”

“I think you should only fight about important things with your friends,” she clarified. “If we weren’t friends, we wouldn’t fight about things that were important to us. We wouldn’t learn anything about each other or grow by hearing the others’ point of view. If we can forgive each other, our friendship becomes stronger.” She met his eyes. “I want us to have a strong friendship, Gilbert.”

“I forgive you, then.”

“Me, too.” She blushed and turned back to look out the window.

It started to rain just as they came within sight of Charlottetown station.

“Will the ferry still go out?” Anne wondered aloud.

“It might be delayed,” Gilbert said.

They checked at the ticketer and discovered that nothing short of hail would prevent the ferry going out, but it had been delayed an hour.

“We could cut our losses and wait until next week,” Gilbert offered. She frowned. “Or we could wait out the rain,” he gestured up the street. “I know someplace we can sit.”

Her shoulders fell in relief. “Gilbert, if you’d rather go to Dr. Ward’s, I understand.” He could see how much it weighed on her, that she might have to wait another week.

“You said you weren’t giving up,” he reminded her. “I won’t, either. It’ll make our friendship stronger,” he teased.

“Well, if our _friendship_ is at stake,” she consented, blushing lightly.

They ran up the street, laughing. When they reached the pub, one of Anne’s braids had come undone and they both had mud-splattered clothes. The other patrons glared at them, which made them laugh harder, muffling the sound in their elbows until they could calm down enough to ask for a hot drink. Anne unraveled her other braid and absently combed her fingers through it.

“I wish I had some of your tarts to go with this,” he tipped his mug to her and took a long sip. When he put it down, Anne was blushing hard.

“I’m glad you liked them,” she said. “I’m best at things that don’t have a long cook time. Don’t expect a cake from me. I’d burn it. I’ve burnt a pie already.”

“Oh?”

“Do you remember when I left school for weeks? The preacher convinced Marilla it would be better to educate me at being a wife. My baking skills have improved since then but I still get distracted, dreaming.” She took a sip from her own drink. “What are your dreams, Gilbert?”

_We’re not to talk about anything so interesting as ages, politics, dreams._

It’s the same pub where they sat before Gilbert went overseas. He remembered looking into her eyes then, how big they were. It was easy to get lost in her eyes, they were so _open_. Anne never judged anyone. It was so different from how he’d felt sitting across from Miss Rose in the teashop.

“I want to help people,” he said. “I want to work with people to make medical discoveries.” She leaned forward a bit, encouraging him. “I want to travel more. I love Avonlea. I’ll always come back, but I think I owe it to the people here to go out into the world and bring back… I’m not sure.”

“Hope.”

“That’s it exactly.”

“Enlightenment.”

“Yes.”

They sat silently for a few minutes. “What about you?” he asked.

“I have so many,” she confessed breathlessly. He chuckled softly into his mug. “I want to travel. I want to write. I want to make something of myself. I… I want Matthew and Marilla to be proud of me.”

“I think they already are.”

“I want to be the top student in my class at Queens,” she continued. “I want to win prizes and scholarships. I want everyone in Avonlea who scorned them for adopting me to be proud of me, too. I want them to tell other people about me as if I were something Avonlea should be known for.” She frowned at her empty mug. “It must seem selfish in comparison to your dreams.”

“It’s ambitious,” Gilbert corrected her. “It’s okay to be selfish. No one’s perfect.”

“Are you?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, thinking of the times he offered to help Mary clear up the kitchen so they could be alone and he could feel what it was like to have a mother, stealing her from Bash and Delphine, or the Saturdays when he walked around town for a bit longer so that he could have more time to himself.

Anne’s note in his pocket, unshared with anyone.

“The rain’s letting up!” Anne said cheerfully. She leapt up from her seat and grabbed his arm. “To adventure!”

As they walked back to the ferry, her hand slipped and caught in his, squeezed once, then released.

As Gilbert felt the heat of her skin leave his, he wondered if the last hour could be considered a date. From what he’d learned from Miss Rose, it didn’t seem to follow any of the rules. Yet, there had been something intimate and special about it. Why _shouldn’t_ people talk about their dreams or hold hands if they were moved to? How would they know if they were compatible?

Were he and Anne compatible? He thought so. They fought often, but while they did hurt each others’ feelings, there was always hope for forgiveness, and something good always came out of it.

He glanced sidelong at her, inhaling sharply at the sight of her hair, catching the weak sunlight enough to flame. 

* * *

The ferry was crowded since a number of people had waited the extra hour. It was loud, too, so they said nothing, just exchanged smiles and nodded toward things that drew their notice. They both laughed at a gentleman who seemed disgusted by the puddles of water underfoot. He actually whipped out a large handkerchief and lightly mopped under his feet. Two children also gained their interest as they picked their noses and deposited the boogers on their unsuspecting father’s coat.

When they docked, Gilbert hired a coach and Anne bought them some warm meat pies.

“I also have more tarts!” she said with a flourish. “I almost brought them out earlier when you were wishing for them, but sometimes a thing is sweeter if you just wait, don’t you agree?”

“Whole heartedly,” he said, taking the offered package.

They rode for almost an hour, Anne chatting away. She stopped and apologized once or twice, citing nerves, but Gilbert encouraged her. They never spent this much time alone together and it was a delight to learn things he never knew about her. He, in turn, shared things he’d never talked to anyone about, not because they were secret, but because he didn’t have a true friend his own age besides her.

“The other boys aren’t as mature as you,” Anne concluded. “Moody is nice, but he isn’t the sort of person you’d talk to about civil rights.” She frowned. “If Cole had stayed, you two would be great bosom friends, I think. He’s very intellectual.”

Gilbert thought back to the joy in her voice when she greeted the other boy last week. He’d been too hurt by her dismissal on the train to be wrecked with jealousy, but now a light throb of it flared at his temple.

“Are you and he…?”

Anne stared at him, blushing. “Oh, definitely not!” she laughed nervously. “Next to you and Diana, he’s my best friend in the world. No romantic feelings, whatsoever.”

Gilbert was pleased that Anne counted him among her best friends, but equally disappointed, and she was still blushing, so he suspected there was something else. Did she have a crush on Cole? Did she have a crush on someone else? Dare he ask?

“Do you have any feelings like that? For someone?” Anne asked first, surprising him.

She had that same hopeful look on her face as the day she tried to get him to post a take notice for Ruby.

“I… it’s complicated,” he said finally. “She doesn’t’ seem interested in me that way at all.”

Anne looked down at her feet, clearly confused. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to say anything else. It would be awkward, and today was about something important to her. It would be selfish to spoil it with his own half formed feelings. But before he could change the subject and tell her they were close to the church, she muttered something unintelligible under her breath and blushed even harder.

“Anne?”

“I _said_ – “ she took a deep breath. “Why wouldn’t she be interested? You’re so kind and smart and…” she gestured vaguely.

“And?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “When I look in the mirror – when any girl looks in the mirror at herself, she has to convince herself that she’s pretty. When society puts a great deal of value on pretty, it can be difficult, especially if you have red hair and freckles. Boys don’t go through that, and even if you did, you don’t need much imagination to convince yourself that you’re hands- that you’re good-looking. So, I don’t understand why you think any girl wouldn’t be interested. I can’t fathom one who _wouldn’t_ be, even – “

She cut herself off. The color drained from her face a little. “I meant, _especially_ Ruby.” She seemed tense for having said it out loud.

“I only see Ruby as a friend,” he said, almost too quickly.

They were both quiet until they reached the church. Anne didn’t seem angry at him. She was as pensive as he was, though he doubted her thoughts were as complicated as his. Aside from considering him one of her best friends, she also thought that he was smart and kind and admitted in a roundabout way that she thought he was good-looking. Most of all, she couldn’t fathom a girl who wouldn’t be interested in him. Did that mean…?

“Gilbert, I think that’s it!” she exclaimed, sitting up a little straighter and pointing up ahead. A steeple rose into view.

“Hold on,” he laughed, urging their horse into a bit of a faster canter. Anne laughed in delight.

They were greeted at the door and escorted in after Anne calmly and politely explained her purpose and led through a long corridor into a room with very high ceilings. The priest and another gentlemen brought then a stack of record books and told Anne that she should also pray for answers and direction before leaving them.

Anne opened the first book and lightly patted the pages, lifting a thin layer of dust. “Here I go,” she whispered, and Gilbert had the sense that she was praying, but to her parents, to the love she’d fostered for their memory.

He opened another book and silently sent up a simple prayer before be began.

*

They’d arrived just after noon and the room had no windows. Anne’s coat lay discarded on a bench and Gilbert had abandoned his vest, as well. At some point, they’d started pointing out to each other how many parishioners had been named ‘Anne’ or ‘Gilbert’ as a way to pass the time.

Another hour passed. Anne had braided her hair in one long length hanging over her shoulder and her furrowed brow had a sheen of sweat. Their shirts stuck to their skin in places. Still, they persisted. Gilbert found a Bertha, but she wasn’t a Shirley. Anne found five Walters on one page, but none were her father. A nun brought them water, bread, and an apple each, for which they were very grateful.

Two and a half hours in, Anne jumped up and froze, her mouth agape.

“Gilbert,” she said. “I think… I think I might have found… but would you check for me? I feel as though I’m dreaming.”

Carefully, Gilbert slid the heavy tome from her pile to his. There. In this second to last column on the page. Walter and Bertha Shirley. “It’s them,” he assured her. “It says they arrived from the county of Midlothian in Scotland; Bertha pregnant. 1883. Gave birth to Anne 5 March 1883. Bertha d. 12 June 1883. Fever. Walter d. 15 June 1883. Fever. No family contact.”

Anne slowly sunk back into her seat. The tears came slowly, but soon, she was smiling through them. “No family contact,” she repeated. “They didn’t _want_ me to be orphaned. I had no family here. I’m from _Scotland_. Gilbert, I’m from Scotland!”

“That explains the red hair,” he joked.

For a second eh thought he’d offended her, but she laughed and started crying again. “It really does! Now if Josie says something about, I’ll have a comeback.”

When Anne was ready, they cleaned and sorted the piles of books and ventured out into the graveyard. It wasn’t very well kept, but the vicar was able to help the after nearly an hour of hunting. Walter and Bertha’s stones were side by side. They were only marked “SHIRLEY”. Gilbert helped Anne pull weeds around them and then sat with her to place a few flowers picked from the nearby meadow. Neither said anything, not until they were halfway back to the ferry.

“I’m going to write to the office of records in Midlothian,” Anne said, more to herself than to Gilbert. “I’ll find my Scottish family.”

* * *

Their car going back to Avonlea was nearly empty, just them and an elderly gentleman struggling to stay awake as he read the paper. They found a seat as far from him as possible as not to disturb him. It was getting late, and Gilbert was thinking about what Mary could have cooked for dinner. Anne looked relaxed and peaceful, a stark juxtaposition to last week at this time. Before getting on the train they’d stopped in at the post office and asked if there was a record for an address to the county of Midlothian in Scotland and how much it would cost to post a letter there. The postmaster had taken so long looking for it that Anne worried there wasn’t an address and Gilbert worried they’d missed the train. Fortunately, neither woe was made and they boarded on time with an address firmly in Anne’s hand.

“Now I just have to convince Marilla to let me expand my search,” Anne sighed wistfully.

They started another conversation about what she might report on her Getting to Know You section now when their car lurched over a rough patch of rail. Gilbert, facing Anne with his back to the engine, fell forward. Anne caught him by the shoulders, their knees locked together.

An expression of shock filtered across Anne’s face, but she held him tightly as the car rocked back into place. Her left hand slid and caught in the curve of his neck. Involuntarily, he glanced down at her lips and shuddered.

“You should sit next to me!” she said in a rush, scooting over and releasing him. He noticed that she was blushing, but turned to his own thoughts. Had he imagined the slightest caress of her fingertips in his hair? The soft gasp when he let his eyes linger on her mouth?

The words _I kept your note_ were on the tip of his tongue and he had to swallow them down hard. _With love, Anne_.


	2. Daydreams, Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne's POV. A study in the etiquette of girls' friendship.

Anne couldn’t sleep. The tips of her fingers tingled. Warmth was filling her from inside out. The warmth was from the joy of knowing. Knowing that her parents had loved her. Knowing where they were from. Knowing that her hair wasn’t a strange anomaly but a feature that was common in her heritage and something to be proud of.

The tingling at the tips of her fingers was from something else entirely.

For the hundredth time that night, she sat up, adjusted her pillow and turned over, burying her face in the sheets.

_I almost kissed Gilbert Blythe._

When the train jolted, Anne had bounced in her seat hard enough to bruise. Gilbert had been thrown forward and she’d reached out to break his fall. It lasted a mere moment, but as she held him steady, she involuntarily let her hand slide to his neck, touched his hair. It was softer than it looked. She didn’t think a boy’s hair could be soft. His lips looked soft, too.

Anne groaned into her pillow.

*

In church the next day, Anne drove thoughts about Gilbert out of her mind as best she could with prayer, but after the service, Gilbert came up to them and chatted about their adventure and Anne’s plans to write to Scotland.

“Did you know? Your parents emigrated from the county where Sir Walter Scott was born? My father left a copy of _Ivanhoe_ in his room and it’s mentioned in the postscript.”

“Imagine that!” Marilla looked fondly at her. “I wonder if all Scots are imaginative!”

Anne’s cheeks went pink but she added nothing to the conversation and eventually Gilbert and Matthew started talking about their respective vegetable gardens. Before they all parted, she thanked Gilbert again profusely for accompanying her on the trip and Matthew and Marilla added their thanks as well.

“Our love to Mary, Bash and Delphine!” Anne called behind her. Gilbert’s smile was so full of affection that Anne didn’t feel her heart settle to its normal rhythm until they were halfway home. Unforntunately it was Sunday, so with no chores to be done and meals already prepared, there was nothing to occupy her mind. Marilla noticed her agitation.

“Perhaps you could go visit Mary? I’m sure she’d like some help with Delphine,” she suggested lightly as she rummaged through her needlework pile.

Anne wished that she could sink into the floor. “I’d better study!” she said suddenly. “Practice exams in study group this week!” she raced upstairs before Marilla could ask her what was the matter or suggest that studying was just as much work as chores and therefore banned on Sundays. She wished it were darker so that she could signal to Diana by candle. The Barrys observed strict family time on Sundays, spent chiefly in the drawing room reading, doing needlepoint, and composing letters to family abroad. Diana was also obliged to sit and play quietly with Minnie May for the better part of the afternoon, something she found dull at best and irritating at worst. There were times when Anne was glad not to have small children around, but for the moment she wished for a younger sibling to play with and distract. Not even Jerry was around as he had Sundays free to be with his family, too.

Unable to do anything else, Anne took out her books and notes and did her best to get through some material. Eventually she was able to focus and spent the rest of the morning challenging herself at trigonometry and reading fascinating stories in her history book. luncheon was quick, and she went out to pet the animals and quite forgot about Gilbert until after her bath. She was combing her hair in the mirror and it suddenly struck her that he’d seen her hair wet like this, after the rain.

They’d ridden in a cart for almost two hours to get to the church in Nova Scotia, and spent hours accumulating sweat in that cramped room. It occurred to her at once that the way Gilbert had been gazing at her in the train car might not have been from her mutual feelings that they were close enough to kiss. He could have been very embarrassed for her about her appearance.

Anne groaned and flopped onto her bed. “I’m no beauty,” she reminded herself. “I can’t believe I let myself get caught up in the hope that Gilbert was thinking about kissing me, too.”

A light wind rustled the Snow Queen’s branches. Anne gradually fell asleep, imagining that she was ethereally beautiful. Her mind had been so taxed all day that she slept a dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, she also slept in and didn’t have enough time to braid her hair in the usual way, so she had to settle for pulling half of it back with a ribbon. She hadn’t combed it properly before bed either, so it was airy and frizzy. Her apron had a tear in it.

“This does _not_ bode well for the rest of the day,” she muttered as she rushed to lace her boots. Marilla handed her a piece of toast with jam on it to take as she walked. It was apricot, her least favorite, but she was determined not to complain about it.

When she arrived at the schoolhouse before the bell, she thought the day could be saved, but as soon as she sat down, she noticed Ruby and her stomach plummeted downward. Ruby! How selfish of her to have forgotten!

A snicker behind her tore her attention away from her guilty thought. “Sleep with the cows last night, Anne? Your hair is atrocious,” Josie Pye commented as she slid into her seat. “With hair as red as yours I’d really do better to manage it so it doesn’t call unnecessary attention to itself.”

“I’m Scottish!” Anne snapped defensively at the same time another voice said “She’s Scottish!” in an equally defensive tone. She was shocked to realize it was Gilbert and she blushed. He gave her a very pointed look.

“I’ve discovered that my heritage is Scottish, so I’m very proud of my red hair now, thank you, Josie,” she said, sitting up a little straighter. Josie opened her mouth to retort, but thankfully the school bell cut her off and Anne turned to face the front, smoothing her hair in what she hoped looked like she was proud of it. Diana smiled at her, so it must have worked, and Josie didn’t say another word all day. During lunch, Ruby even suggested she wear it down more often.

“Now that it’s grown back, it’s a lot fuller and shinier,” she said.

Anne had a feeling it had to do with her improved diet and growth spurt. At the asylum or when she was working, she never had three full meals a day. The adults had often whispered that she would remain thin and sickly her whole life, too. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude for Matthew and Marilla. She certainly wasn’t rich, but she was incredibly blessed. The thought prodded at her until after school when Diana finally asked if she was alright.

“I am,” Anne assured her. “I just realized how different I am now than when I first came to Avonlea. I was thin and homely and uneducated. I didn’t think anyone would ever love me or that good things would happen in my life.” She hefted the weight of her schoolbooks a little higher on her shoulder. “I have so much now. So much so that I’m starting to think I could be… loved. By someone.”

“Oh?” Diana smiled playfully.

“It’s just a thought!” Anne lied. “I haven’t taken notice of anyone in particular.”

Diana tightened her lips and only smirked the rest of the way to where they said their goodbyes and parted.

Anne watched her go and felt another wash of guilt. Yesterday she’d wanted nothing more than to spill her heart’s troubles to her bosom friend, but after a whole day of watching Ruby try to steal glances at Gilbert she wasn’t sure what to do. She would have to tell Ruby that she’d betrayed her trust by saying her name out loud to him. There were still some things about friendship between girls that Anne didn’t understand. But who could she talk to?

“Something is troubling you,” Marilla observed as they cleared the dinner dishes. “Is it your studies?”

Anne avoided her eyes and looked down at the soapy water in the sink. “Have you… have you ever kept a secret from Mrs. Lynde?”

Marilla chuckled. “I have to.” She handed Anne a stack of plates. “She didn’t know we’d adopted an orphan until hours before you arrived that day. She scolded me for it, but I’m glad things turned out the way they did.”

Anne smiled. “I’m struggling to keep a secret from Ruby,” she confessed.

“Oh?”

“She likes Gilbert, and I accidentally told him.”

“And he doesn’t’ like her,” Marilla said without surprise.

“He said that he only likes her as a friend,” Anne agreed. “I feel as though I betrayed her trust. She’s liked him for years and has been waiting for him to… take notice.”

“That’s confusing.”

“I know!”

They finished washing the dishes, talking about etiquette in friendships, but Marilla wasn’t as sociable in school, so her advice was sparse. Anne went to bed as conflicted as ever, but knew that she must tell Diana, since it was hardest of all to keep a secret from her and she would surely know what to do.

* * *

“But you knew he wasn’t interested in Ruby,” Diana frowned.

“Not until he told me as such,” Anne whispered. They’d managed to catch a few minutes of privacy before lunch was over in the coatroom.

“You already mentioned Ruby when you tried to get him to make a post last week!” Diana whispered back. “He didn’t jump at the chance then, not to make a post or to even give any sort of indication that he likes her. He could have walked her home or said something, if he thought posting was too public.”

Anne frowned. Diana was right.

“But there _is_ someone he likes,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

They rejoined the rest of the girls and spent the remaining time chatting about dance practice on Friday. Only Diana, Josie and Jane were familiar with the art, though they had never had lessons. Tillie and Ruby were nervous to the point of speechlessness over it. Anne was excited. She’d read so many stories with balls in them, she couldn’t help imagining a setting dressed in lights and flowers with everyone twirling along to bright music. Perhaps she could even dance with Gil- oh. She glanced over at Ruby, who was unusually quiet. Ruby would want to dance with Gilbert. She dreaded telling her friend what had happened, but knew she had to before Ruby was left standing by herself, watching Gilbert dance with someone else. Even if it was just at dance practice there in the schoolroom. It would be embarrassing and heartbreaking.

After study group, she worked up her courage. “I need to talk to you. Can I walk with you a bit?” she asked breathlessly, rushing after her and ahead of Josie Pye.

“Of course!” Ruby waived to Josie, who’d been joined by Jane and Tillie, so at least Anne hadn’t deprived her of a walking partner.

When they were far enough away, Anne started in. She’d been thinking all throughout study group how to say it, and she decided it would be best to start at the beginning. “On Saturday Gilbert escorted me to Nova Scotia to look for records about my parents. I tried asking at the orphanage last week and had no success, so he offered to extend the search with me. I needed a friend.”

Ruby’s steps faltered, but she nodded. “How gentlemanly of him.”

“On our way there, we were talking about… about crushes, and I accidentally brought your name up.”

Ruby froze. “Oh,” she said quietly.

“I know you didn’t want anyone to say anything and I’m sososo so so sosorry,” Anne said, feeling as if the words were spilling too fast for her to articulate them properly. “He said… he said he only thinks ofyou as a friend andI I… I’m so _so_ sorry.”

She expected to be slapped, but Ruby just nodded, staring off in front of her a great distance. Gradually the tears came, but they were very silent. “Anne, I need to go home now,” she said, her voice cracking.

Understandably, Ruby wasn’t in school the next day. Anne told Diana but no one else.

“Poor girl!” Diana said wistfully. “The truth can be hard to digest.”

Anne was having her own digestion problems. She hadn’t fully confessed her betrayal to Ruby.

_I almost kissed Gilbert Blythe._

She’d wanted to. Badly. Gilbert was her friend and he’d been so kind and patient with her Saturday. They’d never had so much time alone to talk. Unlike when they were younger, they got on a lot better. He seemed to like her company. Anne had to remind herself that she must have looked disheveled and smelled sweaty from a day of travelling. Gilbert would have hated her if she’d kissed him then. Still, she allowed herself a little day dream on the walk home about an alternative scenario in which she had kissed him, and he’d braced himself against the back of her seat to lean down and return it, the softness of his hair and the gentle whisper of his fingers caressing the side of her face. She looked around to make sure Jerry wasn’t waiting somewhere to jump out and tease her then dragged herself into the house, embarrassed.

* * *

When Ruby returned to school the next day the girls fussed over her and picked her flowers on the nature walk. Anne was hopeful that her soft smiles and the way she carefully tucked each flower – even the ones gifted to her by Anne – into her apron pocket meant that she would be alright.

They were patiently listening to Ms. Stacy’s explanation of the trees’ community structure when a yelp rang out, then a cry of pain. Within minutes, the nature lesson was a medical lesson as Gilbert tended to Moody’s twisted ankle. Anne rushed off to find aid from the Mi'kmaq. She took great care to rush but not trip over anything herself. Thankfully they were very close to a part of the woods Ka'kwet had shown her; her younger brother and sister were there eating berries from the tribe’s favorite gathering patch. They recognized her and led her to their father.

With the combined efforts of Gilbert and the medicine woman, they were able to clean, wrap and splint Moody’s leg. Both Pauls lended him a shoulder and carried him home while the girls fussed over Ruby some more. She looked dazed and embarrassed at having fainted and barely said anything until lunch late in the day.

“I can’t be a doctor’s wife if I faint so easily at the sight of minor injuries,” she broke into the conversation abruptly. Tillie looked at her as though she’d grown an extra head. Jane looked as though she might start laughing.

“But you’ll be at home with the children, not helping Gilbert at the office!” Tille giggled.

“Still…” Ruby shrugged.

“Well thank God for that!” Josie exclaimed, surprising everyone. “You’re better off, really.”

Diana looked sharply at her. “That isn’t very nice, Josie.”

Josie ignored her and pressed on. “Have you finally noticed that his interests lie elsewhere?”

Anne looked up from her lunch, intrigued. Did Josie know who Gilbert had a crush on?

“Stop it, Josie,” Diana admonished. Lunch hour ended quietly, Ruby bravely holding back tears. Anne wanted to talk to her after study group to save her from Josie, but her friend waved her off weakly and followed Josie and Jane home. Tillie was escorted home by both Pauls, who had returned to the schoolhouse from Moody’s expressly to fight over her. Anne turned her nose up when Charlie so much as glanced in her direction and took off walking as fast as she could to avoid him.

Moody was absent from school the next day, but was barely talked about as dance practice was set for the next afternoon. Ms. Stacy had even cancelled study group since they would be having their mock exam after school. Ruby looked much improved and only talked about how horribly she expected to perform on her assigned science portion. They were all randomly assigned sections the day before. Anne had drawn English, much to her relief. Unfortuntely that mean in the next three practices that Ms. Stacy had scheduled, she only had history to be confident about. Diana volunteered to quiz them during lunch, but Tillie and Ruby were against it, citing nerves and the worry that they might overexert themselves before the practice.

Anne was never sadder to see Diana go than that afternoon. Ms. Stacy had them all sit spaced apart, but Anne was seated close to Gilbert and it flustered her. They’d only spoken during study group that week and the talk had been perfectly cordial, punctuated by stimulating conversation about history. It had been a draining week with her still unsettled feelings of guilt toward Ruby, and the daydream of kissing on the train had become a constant distraction that evolved from a fleeting thing to a fully formed chapter in her head that she mentally reread over and over. It was so crystalized in her mind now that had she been assigned maths she would have surely failed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Gilbert will seek advice. Little does he know that Anne has been daydreaming about him!

**Author's Note:**

> *Anne’s actual birth year is 1865, but the show sets her 16th birthday in 1899. I also made up death dates for her parents.
> 
> The title is from "Rebel Heart" by The Shelters.


End file.
